


the bitterness that drives you (bringing them down)

by whirlybird



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Abuse, Forced sibling incest, Guns, Insanity, M/M, Object Penetration, Rape with a gun, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Coercion, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 18:02:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2631074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whirlybird/pseuds/whirlybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pedicone is done with feeling sorry for himself. Being fired from My Chemical Romance and publicly slandered as a thief back in 2011 has ruined his life, sending him on a mental downward spiral. Eventually, being unable to remember what actually happened, he convinces himself that he's innocent...</p>
<p>It's Gerard and Mikey that are to blame.</p>
<p>Well, maybe Pedicone can help bring them down a notch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the bitterness that drives you (bringing them down)

**Author's Note:**

> Take note. This is damned dark, and there is not a happy ending.  
> Intense trigger warnings: violence, rape, and threats of death.

 

Michael Pedicone wasn’t sure what made Mikey pause upon entering his house.

From his position in the broom closet, eye pressed to the crack between the door and the wall, all Pedicone could see was Mikey’s stupid hair falling over his face. But he was stiff, not relaxed, like someone coming home from a long day out. What made him so suspicious?

Well, it wasn’t like Pedicone had been being careful to avoid detection. His plan was to make himself known anyway – this was no burglary or weird voyeuristic fetish thing. He had helped himself to crackers from Mikey’s cupboard, had lounged on the sofa to channel-surf, and had even made coffee. He wondered if he’d left sugar granules on the counter, or maybe a dent in a sofa cushion.

That was a shame. After all, while he wasn’t going to hide forever, Pedicone had been looking forward to scaring the absolute shit out of Mikey just as he began to relax, nice and safe in his own house.

Everything was Mikey’s fault, really, Pedicone reflected as he stretched languidly, careful to avoid knocking anything over in the cramped closet. His fingers brushed cobwebs away as he braced himself against the wall. Pedicone had been kicked out of the band, his name dragged through the mud, reports of his being fired filling up NME and Music Radar – but, Pedicone guessed, it was easier to make him a scapegoat than to open their fucking eyes to see the real problems in the band.

Fucking Mikey. Fucking Mikey and his stupid Flock of Seagulls haircut and skinny gangly deer legs and ridiculous glittery bass and his inability to keep his dick in his pants. Pedicone’s lip curled as he flashed back through his time with the band.

Ray, too soft and gullible to disagree with anything the others said, which was a shame because he could actually be likeable at times.

Frank, obnoxious and loud, always disagreeing with Pedicone just to be a little shit but going along with anything Gerard told him to do.

Mikey, acting like he’s everyone’s best friend, too fucking stupid to do anything or go anywhere without his brother’s approval and his therapist on speed-dial.

Gerard, who’d made the decision to boot Pedicone out of the band over nothing and lie to everyone about what had happened to make himself and his precious brother and friends look better.

He could possibly, in time, forgive Frank, and definitely Ray. But Gerard and Mikey…

Pedicone was done with feeling sorry for himself. It was time to get out and _do_ something about those two.

Mikey took long, purposeful strides across the room and out of Pedicone’s sightline. When he walks back in front of the closet, his posture is even more unnaturally stiff. He knows that some has been in, or is still in, his house. Pedicone saw him grope in his back pockets – reaching for his cell phone. The fun would be spoiled if he called the cops.

Shit, Pedicone had time to think. This is it.

Just as Mikey pulled the phone out of his pocket, Pedicone gripped the handle of his knife firmly and lunged out of the broom closet. The phone clattered to the floor noisily as Mikey was shoved hard, smashing into the opposite wall and falling onto his right arm, which he barely managed to extend just in time to save his head from taking the brunt of the fall.

Mikey reacted more quickly than Pedicone expected, kicking Pedicone hard in the shin before rolling onto his hands and knees, but didn’t make it to his feet fast enough. Pedicone got his knee in Mikey’s back and forced him down to the floor, pinning him there.

He grabbed a handful of Mikey’s hair and yanked his head back, eliciting a pained grunt, which quickly cut short as Pedicone pressed the knife to his throat.

“Shut up. Don’t fucking move,” Pedicone growled, as Mikey’s body tensed beneath him, trying to pull away from the blade.

“Pedicone…” Mikey’s voice was hoarse with fear and confusion, and still he tried to twist around and duck away from the blade. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Pedicone dug his knee harder into Mikey’s back, grinding with the intent to hurt, and dug the blade in a little – not hard enough to cut the skin, but enough to make Mikey stay still.

“Did you hear me? Stop fucking moving!”

“What the fuck are you doing in my house? Get off of me!”

“You’re paying for what you did to me, Mikey. To me, and to your band,” Pedicone snarled, pulling harder on his handful of hair.

“Are you fucked in the head? What I did to the band? You were the one starting shit with our crew, pissing everyone off with your arrogant attitude –”

“Shut up!” Pedicone barked, feeling himself starting to lose control of his own temper. He swallowed it back. His temper was a dark and terrible thing. Ever since he’d been fired, it had gotten worse. Sometimes, he did things that he regretted...and right now he had a gun, and things might happen if he let his temper run wild.

Beneath him, Mikey snarled. “So what is this? A burglary? Gonna steal some more shit from me?”

“Still sticking to that story, are you? Just like you still claim it wasn’t your fucking that whore that broke up the band? Cheating on your wife, Mikey, shit. She was gorgeous. Alicia. Maybe I’ll fuck her for you, show her what a real man is like.”

“You fucking _bastard_!” Mikey spat, wrenching his head out of Pedicone’s grasp and thrashing hard enough to dislodge the knee in his back. Pedicone was surprised by how fast he rolled over, sat up, and threw a punch that connected solidly with Pedicone’s jaw.

His head snapped to the side. It hurt. But Pedicone is impressed. He hadn’t expected Mikey to act so tough with a knife to his throat.

Well, this was fine. Just fine. Mikey just wasn’t scared yet. The presence of a blade was only a threat. And he hadn’t really gotten hurt. Pedicone had only tackled him, and pulled his hair. Well, if that didn’t scare Mikey, Pedicone knew what to do. His heart began pumping quicker, flooding his body with the thrill of the impending fight.

Pedicone seized Mikey’s wrist as it came at his face again, and bent it back until Mikey cried out in pain. They struggled briefly, but Pedicone had the clear advantage of size and strength. It wasn’t too hard to wrestle Mikey onto his back again.

Straddling Mikey’s waist, Pedicone smirked. Mikey was breathing hard, and Pedicone was barely winded. In a last ditch effort, Mikey raised his arms to try and push Pedicone off, exposing a strip of pale stomach. Pedicone looked down at that expanse of unmarked skin for only a second before dragging his knife across it, faster than even he could see.

The edge was razor-sharp and the blood spilled easily, brilliant ruby-red in the light, dripping onto the carpet. Mikey cried out, more shock than pain, as he registered what had happened.

“God,” Mikey choked, staring down at the blood spilling down over his pants. He finally sounded scared – good, Pedicone thought fiercely, as he should be. He took advantage of Mikey’s wide-eyed shock to punch him hard in the left cheekbone, snapping his head to the side. Pure instinct made Mikey lift his knees, trying to buck Pedicone off.

Pedicone’s lip curled in a snarl. “Stay still, faggot. You’re going nowhere in this fight.” _Cut his neck a little, fuck, cut his ear off, put his fucking eye out, show him you mean business!_ the dark thing inside his brain urged himself. It wasn’t good that Mikey was making him this mad.

Mikey’s arm rose to block the knife from coming at his throat again, succeeding only in slicing the underside of his arm open almost from elbow to wrist. The blood came faster from this wound – it was deeper than Pedicone had intended, deep enough to make Mikey freeze, eyes wide, allowing his guard to drop enough for Pedicone to stand up and kick him in the stomach, once, twice, a third time to the ribs.

Mikey curled up in the fetal position, groaning, blood dripping onto his kitchen floor and staining his shirt. He started to speak, but Pedicone shut him up fast with one final kick to the side of the head.

Breathing hard, composing himself, Pedicone stared down at the wheezing, gasping body of his former bandmate, finally seeing what he came here for. Mikey broken, Mikey submissive, Mikey fearing for his life and trying to cover his vital organs as Pedicone stepped over him. His temper quieted, for now.

“You little shit,” Pedicone said. “You could have listened to me. I told you not to move.”

Mikey coughed, clutching his stomach. “Pedicone…I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry, just – just calm down, we can just talk this over…”

“I also told you to shut up.” Pedicone kicked him in the ribs again and listened with satisfaction to Mikey’s pained grunt.

“ _Stop_ – Pedicone, calm down, I can’t breathe – my ribs – ”

“If you keep talking after I’ve told you to shut your mouth, you won’t have to worry about breathing anymore,” Pedicone snapped, and Mikey finally shut up. That felt good. Good to be in control. Good to have Mikey listen to him for once. This night was finally getting fun.

Pedicone swallowed hard and used his foot to turn Mikey’s head so that they were staring at each other. “Answer me. Gerard is coming to visit you soon, right?”

Mikey said nothing. His throat worked, as if he had swallowed hard.

“I hope Gerard isn’t as stupid as you are. Otherwise you’re going to have to watch me beat the shit out of him – starting with wrecking his pretty face. Like this.”

Pedicone almost regretted the force he used to swing his fist into Mikey’s eye. His hand throbbed afterward. Pedicone looked down at his knuckles and found them smeared with red. He’d opened a cut on Mikey’s eyebrow, which was trickling blood into Mikey’s eye. More blood. Mikey was streaked with it now.

“I could break your nose next, if you’d like. I’ll do the same to Gerard so you two will match. Now, I know he’s coming over. No shame in confirming what I already know. Isn’t that right, Mikey?”

“Yes.” It came as a whisper.

“Good,” Pedicone nodded to himself. “What time is he supposed to be here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Don’t be stupid, Mikey. Lies make me angry.”

“I…I’m not sure. After dinner, he said…” Mikey’s voice was strained and thin.

Pedicone glanced at the clock. It was five thirty. “Dinner with his family. Cute. Might take a while, yeah? Well, I’m not that patient, but I’ll try to wait. Get you cleaned up. If he takes too long, he’ll just get his turn later.”

Mikey’s eyes widened and he stared at Pedicone desperately. “His turn for what? You said this was all my fault. Hurt me all you want. Leave my brother out of this.”

“Careful,” Pedicone snapped. “I don’t like being told what to do. Neither of you will be hurt if you cooperate. The better you behave, the easier it will be for him, okay? Make me happy, and you won’t have to worry about Gerard.”

Mikey was quiet for a moment, his breath coming out shakily. “What do you want me to do?”

God, it felt good to hear him ask that _._ “You’re going to stay quiet. Don’t yell. We don’t need any interruptions. Don’t struggle. Don’t you even think about hitting me again. Understand?”

“We – we’re sorry about what happened, Pedicone. I didn’t mean to –”

“I said, do you understand?” Pedicone kneeled on the floor next to Mikey and reached out to dig his fingers into the wound on his stomach. Mikey hissed and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I understand,” he forced out, and Pedicone gingerly pulled bloody fingernails from the oozing cut.

“That’s better,” Pedicone said softly. He looked at Mikey’s arm, which was still oozing blood steadily, pulsing with the beat of his heart. “I’m going to get a towel and put pressure on your arm. Stay still.” He found a blue handtowel under the kitchen sink and wrapped it tightly around Mikey’s arm. “Hold that with your other hand. I don’t want you to pass out.”

Pedicone didn’t know much about how much blood Mikey would have to lose to pass out, but he wasn’t about to take a chance. He found a roll of duct tape in the broom cupboard, in a tall dusty white storage cabinet that looked to be a sort of catch-all for household tools, lightbulbs, and batteries. The tape could be used to bind Mikey’s arm and close the wound before he bled out. Unconscious Mikey wouldn’t be very much fun. But, he mused, on the bright side, it would be a lot easier to scare the shit out of Gerard if he had a useless, unconscious hostage to threaten.

Gerard. Better to know what time he’d be showing up, too. On his way back to the prone figure on the floor, Pedicone silently retrieved Mikey’s phone from the corner it had tumbled into and slid his thumb across the screen to scan his text history.

Mikey watched him silently, eyes on his cell phone, perhaps wondering if he could lunge fast enough to grab it from Pedicone, but the kicks to his stomach had been pretty fucking hard – hard enough, probably, to make getting to his feet a slow and painful process.

“Here,” he said, popping the phone into his pocket. “Give me your arm. Don’t look at me like that. I want to help you. You’re no fun to me unconscious.”

Mikey craned his neck to look at what Pedicone was holding before complying. His hand was shaking as he held out his arm, palm up. When Pedicone carelessly scrubbed excess blood away with the blue towel, he yelled, but managed to keep the arm still even as Pedicone put the towel over the cut and put on as much pressure as he could.

Pedicone was impressed. “Shit, that must hurt,” he said amiably, keeping the pressure steady for a few minutes. It was a pretty fucking bad cut. “Wonder what it’ll feel like when you have to rip this off?” He pressed a strip of duct tape across the cut, then tried to stick the strip in place with more tape. It was a poor job, but that wasn’t really his problem. It worked.

“Why are you doing this?” Mikey asked, shakily. He pulled his arm close, taking deep and steady breaths.

“I want payback,” Pedicone replied shortly. “I want you and your douchebag brother to pay for ruining my career and my reputation. People google my name, and all they see is a bunch of stupid whiny bullshit from you and your band accusing me of stealing. Making me look like a fool.”

“You _did_ steal, Pedicone, we caught you. In Washington. We – ”

Pedicone ground his teeth together and cut him off. “ _You_ didn’t fucking see anything. Neither did your brother. You just took his word for it. Your fucking brother, god, it’s disgusting the way you all worship him. You especially.”

“Gerard said – ”

Frustrated, Pedicone slapped him. “I don’t fucking care what Gerard said! He’s wrong, he’s fucking wrong, he’s a liar, and you’re a fucking liar too. Your manager is a fucking liar, and I can’t get a fucking job because of all of your bullshit, and _I am going to make you pay,_ and then everything will be balanced again,do you understand me?!”

Mikey clearly didn’t believe him. He looked at Pedicone warily, like Pedicone was the one with a fucking problem. “You’re crazy,” he whispered. “Fuck.” He hugged his arm to his chest and squeezed his eyes closed.

“I’ve been a little crazy,” Pedicone admitted, his thoughts flickering back to the dark nights of drinking, picking fights with strangers, hurting himself, feeling guilty, feeling _angry_ , the anger getting stronger all the time. “It’s hard, you know. To be broke and unemployed. But I’m better now.”

“You – you want us to apologize? Do you want money or something?”

Pedicone laughed. “Oh, Mikey, that’s not what I want. Wouldn’t that be easy. We’re going to have a lot more fun than that. I don’t have much to lose now, you know.”

Mikey was shaking his head, confused. “What are you talking about, fun?”

“You’ll see. Oh, you’ll see. And your brother, too. You’re gonna know what it’s like to be humiliated, like I was.”

“Pedicone,” Mikey burst out. “Look...Mike...I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry. Please, don’t bring Gerard into this. Let me text him and tell him I’m busy. You – you can take your revenge on me, just me, and then it’ll be over.”

Pedicone went quiet for a long moment, looking distantly at the wall. “That was a big mistake,” he said softly. “Don’t ever try to tell me what to do.”

Mikey looked defiant – at least until Pedicone snapped out of his trance and seized him by the throat with both hands. Then, he looked terrified.

“I don’t fucking like it when you act like you’re better than me,” he continued as his fingers tightened, closing Mikey’s windpipe.

“You’re not in control, Mikey. You’re mine. You and your brother both.”

He watched, calm, as Mikey began to struggle, trying to wrench Pedicone’s hands away with his good arm. He kicked, too, but feebly. He was stronger than Pedicone had expected after losing all that blood, but within twenty seconds Mikey’s face began to redden and his struggles turned to weak, spastic jerking.

Pedicone stared into those bulging hazel eyes the entire time, and felt immensely satisfied at the fear there. Mikey’s face went from flushed pink to an unpleasant purple. His entire body went limp in less than a minute, except for his lips, which still opened and closed like a fish as he tried to gasp for any possible oxygen. He looked as though he had seconds left before he slipped into unconsciousness.

Reluctantly, Pedicone loosened his grip. Mikey made a noise like a sucking drain as he inhaled so hard that he nearly choked on air. As his desperate, hoarse gasps began to become more controlled, his eyes lost the glaze of oxygen deprivation and he blinked up at Pedicone stupidly.

Pedicone let himself lie on top of Mikey, trying not to push down on his chest too much. Mikey was still trying to catch his breath, and Pedicone didn’t really want Mikey to suffocate. He just wanted to teach him a lesson _._ Mikey didn’t move to push Pedicone away, nor did he start bitching and whining again. _Good._

“There,” Pedicone said softly. “Nice and quiet for me now, aren’t you?” He licked a stripe up Mikey’s neck, across the bruises that were beginning to form. Mikey’s eyes went wide, possibly beginning to realize for the first time what Pedicone intended to do with him as revenge, but he didn’t speak.

He rested his forehead against Mikey’s. “You can talk. Quietly. Don’t you dare try to threaten or bargain with me. Apologize for disobeying me.”

“I – I’m sorry.” Mikey sounded exhausted, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

“Sorry for what?” Pedicone prompted.

“For telling you what to do.”

“Gonna be good for me now?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. Pedicone is tempted to hit him again and make him say _yes sir,_ but at that moment Mikey’s phone dings and buzzes in his pocket.

“Gerard,” Mikey said faintly. He shuddered.

It was just past six now. Pedicone grabbed the phone. “He’ll be here in five,” he said aloud, and heard Mikey exhale harshly. Trying to imitate Mikey’s quick, shorthand texting style, Pedicone typed out a reply.

“What are you telling him?” Mikey’s whisper is quiet and submissive enough to earn a truthful reply.

“That you’re upstairs, and to come right in,” Pedicone answered. “I’m going to leave the door unlocked. And you, pretty-boy – ” He grabbed Mikey’s shoulders and hauled him to his feet, where he stood unsteadily with his bloodied arms crossed over his stomach. Pedicone turned him around to face the stairs, pushing the knife into his back. “Lead the way, you’re going upstairs.”

Mikey swayed a little, but he could walk, and he climbed the stairs slowly, Pedicone’s blade never leaving his back. “Good boy,” Pedicone encouraged. “Whatever you do now, your brother will pay the price. Be good and I won’t have to hurt him too badly, okay?”

Mikey allowed Pedicone to guide him into his own bedroom silently, and sat on the bed when prompted. First, Pedicone chucked Mikey’s phone out the window. Then he took his small backpack and found one of the two pairs of handcuffs he’d brought with him.

The headboard of Mikey’s bed was sturdy, solid wood. Pedicone cuffed Mikey’s wrists to one of its thick posts.

“How’s your arm feel? Not gonna pass out on me, are you?”

“It hurts,” Mikey said balefully.

“Fucking pussy. Tell me if you think you feel lightheaded. That wouldn’t make me very happy. What about your stomach?” He didn’t wait for a reply before pushing Mikey’s shirt up. He wiped away the old blood with the towel to see if there was any new blood welling up underneath, eliciting a protesting noise from Mikey.

“Shut the fuck up, it’s not even that deep. Just a bit messy.” Pedicone grabbed Mikey’s jaw and forced his mouth open with a thumb so that he could gag him with the bloody towel. “Get ready for some real fun now that your brother is about to get here. I’ll be right back.”

Gerard noisily kicked off his boots and dropped his grey duffel bag in the front hallway. He was wearing a grey-and-black striped scarf despite the warmth outside – as big of a fashion diva as ever – and he was carrying a tray with two Starbucks cups. “Hi! Brought you coffee,” he called up the stairs, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck.

Pedicone wanted him to move away from the door. If he fucked up and Gerard got the upper hand for a second, the last thing he wanted was for Gerard to be able to get the door open and yell. He waited, frustrated as Gerard fussed about trying to hang his jacket in the closet, arrange his boots neatly, and comb his hair into some sort of order.

He had always been a fucking diva. It was one of the things Pedicone hated most about him. He was forever fiddling, doodling, typing or texting or talking. What was worse was that people seemed to find this _charming_. Pedicone thought it sucked, especially crouched in this position with his knees aching and tingling waiting for Gerard to actually get inside.

A thump from upstairs, as if Mikey had managed to thrash around enough to bang the headboard off the wall. Then a clatter, like he’d knocked something to the floor. Fucker.

Gerard froze, looking up at the ceiling. “Mikey? Are you okay?”

Taking advantage of his surprise, Pedicone seized Gerard in a headlock from behind, making him yelp. He pulled Gerard away from the door, _good_ , and when Pedicone moved so that he was the one blocking the way out, he was fully in control and calm again.

Grinning, he wrapped his other arm around Gerard’s chest and held the blade before his eyes. Pedicone heard him gasp, and realized that the knife was bloody. Covered in Mikey’s blood. Gerard’s eyes bulged.

“Good to see you again, Gerard,” Pedicone said conversationally. “You might not want to move. This is pretty sharp.”

“Where’s my brother?”

“He’s fine. Well, not fine. He’s alive, for now. Upstairs. Don’t ask stupid questions, you knew that already. I told him to be quiet, but he’s not so good at doing what I tell him to.” Pedicone’s free hand gestured to the bloody knife.

There was a beat of silence. He could see Gerard’s uncertainty, the fear, the worry, and the anger. Gerard was trying to be calm, Pedicone knew. With Mikey held hostage, Pedicone knew Gerard would be less likely to do something stupid.

“What is this, Pedicone? How did you get in here?”

“What do you think this is, Gee?” said Pedicone, mockingly. “You’re a smart man.”

“This is about – about you leaving the band,” Gerard said haltingly.

“Leaving the band. What a nice way to put it.” Pedicone laughed, trying not to sound as manic as he felt. “After I was falsely accused, slandered, lied to, and humiliated, I was fired.”

“Listen,” Gerard’s voice took on a more patronizing tone, like he was talking to his fucking kid. “We can make a statement…give you a settlement, or something…We’ll apologize. Just don’t freak out. Put the knife down, Pedicone, for god’s sake.”

“No.”

“Please, let’s talk. Let Mikey go. Let me see him.” Gerard’s voice was becoming thin, fear showing through the exaggerated calm. “Please, Pedicone. Don’t hurt him. I’ll work this out. We’ll work this out.”

“Will you shut _up_ already, _god_!” Pedicone exploded. He had never understood what was so appealing about Gerard’s stupid loud mouth. “You’re making a big mistake if you think you can reason your way out of this. You’re not in control, Gerard, do you understand? I’m going to fucking _make_ you understand. I’m in control, I’m calling the shots, and your brother is upstairs, tied to the bed, and bleeding from where I cut him with this knife.”

“Jesus fucking Christ! Mikey!” Gerard howled, backing away from Pedicone and tensing like he meant to bolt. Whether he was going to run upstairs or outside to get help, Pedicone didn’t know.

Fortunately, Gerard wasn’t very quick. Pedicone grabbed him by the arm before he could go anywhere and wrenched him backward, shoving the knife up under his chin. “I swear to god, Gerard, if you try anything, I’ll hurt Mikey so badly he’ll be begging for me to slit his throat and end it. Got it?”

When Gerard only gaped, Pedicone hit him, a backhand slap with the hand that held the knife. The flat of the blade glanced off Gerard’s temple. “Did you fucking hear me?”

“ _Don’t,_ ” Gerard choked. “Don’t hurt him, fuck. Why are you doing this to us?”

Pedicone didn’t bother answering that again. He let go of Gerard’s arm and patted him down until he found the iPhone in a pocket of his zip-up hoodie. “Let’s get rid of this, just to be safe,” he said, chucking it in the general direction of the kitchen.

Gerard shook his head again, dazed, sounding like a broken record. “Why are you doing this? Please, Pedicone. I know shit happened between us, but we’re – we’re friends, aren’t we? Mike...”

“Not everyone loves you, Gerard, you self-absorbed drama queen. Is this how you treat your friends?”

Gerard was sweating. It was cold in the air-conditioned house but his hair stuck to his forehead like it did when he performed under the blazing stage lights. “It was just – a professional decision. Not personal. It was no big deal. I got angry at you and I’m sorry.”

“ _No big deal?_ God, you really believe that, don’t you? I could have put up with your bullshit, your arrogance, your stupid band’s issues and lack of talent and gay stage antics. I never said anything about the messes you made or the way everyone ignored me – used me. But to put up with all that shit – and then to be fired, publicly, accused of theft? No band will ever want me again, and any other job I apply for – hell, you Google my name, and you see the whole bullshit story!”

“You deserved – ” Gerard began hotly, and Pedicone threw all his force into a vicious right hook that smashed Gerard’s head into the wall.

“Neither of you fucking faggots get it! I don’t care what you think – I didn’t steal from you. I’m here for revenge, and I’m going to have it. You _will_ cooperate, Gerard, or I’ll kill your brother when I’m done with the two of you. And I’ll make you wish you were dead too.” Pedicone leaned in close, lips brushing Gerard’s ear and making him shiver. The knife gently touched Gerard’s face, swiping over his cheekbone and across his nose lightly. “See how Bandit will cry when her daddy’s face looks like fucking Picasso drew it.”

Gerard sucked in a breath and gritted his teeth as tears wet his eyes. He looked at the floor, waiting, until Pedicone spoke again. “That’s good, Gerard. You’re gonna be a good boy and make this easy for me, right?"

“You’re not going to kill us if we – cooperate?”

“That’s right,” Pedicone said, patting him on the head like a pet that had done a trick.

“Do you want an apology?”

Pedicone laughed. “Here we go again. What did I just fucking tell you? No, Gerard, I don’t care how many times you say sorry. You need to pay. Mikey, too. You’re both fucking insufferable, egotistical assholes and I’m going to take you down a notch.” He kicked Gerard’s shin. “Go up the stairs. We’re gonna go see Mikey. His bedroom.”

Gerard’s jaw worked but he said nothing, turning obediently towards the stairs. Pedicone grabbed one of the coffees he’d brought and took a swig before following. He poked the tip of the knife into Gerard’s back to urge him on when he seemed reluctant to climb the stairs.

Mikey had managed to spit out the towel Pedicone had gagged him with. His eyes raked over Gerard, whose face registered blank shock. “Are you okay?” Mikey asked, a bit frantic, ignoring Pedicone’s presence.

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine, it’s _you…”_ Gerard looked helplessly at the bloodstained towel, his bleeding arm, the long red cut on his stomach. The tape closing Mikey’s wrist was already oozing, the wetness making the tape curl up at the edges.

_So much red._ Pedicone thought the color beautiful against Mikey’s skin. Red marks that would later blossom black and blue covered Mikey’s ribs and stomach, his throat a mottled mess.

“Jesus Christ.” Gerard shot Pedicone a look of pure loathing before getting on the bed beside Mikey, awkward with his arms behind his back. “Oh, Mikey,” he said, squinting his eyes against tears.

Pedicone watched, drinking the coffee meant for Mikey, enjoying being in control. “Well,” he said suddenly, making both brothers jump. That struck him as funny. “The fun begins, boys. First of all – ” He picked up the knife from Mikey’s dresser. “This isn’t all I brought with me in case one of you gets any stupid ideas. I have a surprise for you.” He waited until both men were watching before he reached inside his hoodie and produced the M1911 pistol from his waistband holster.

Their eyes were wide as Pedicone approached the bed, gun in hand, a small smile on his face. Gerard looked almost cartoonish, owl-like with his huge amber eyes, and Mikey’s lips had tightened into a whitish thin line. It was funny. It was sweet, how scared they were.

Pedicone put the barrel of the gun against Mikey’s temple and looked into Gerard’s eyes.

“I’ll say this once,” Pedicone said. “I’m not afraid to kill one or both of you. It’s up to you. You, Gerard, if you piss me off, Mikey dies. Mikey – ” here Pedicone looked at him, putting the gun to Gerard’s head. “You fuck up and Gerard dies. Easy to understand, yeah?”

Mikey nodded. Pedicone looked at Gerard, who swallowed audibly before muttering, “Yes.”

“Allright. Gerard, get comfy.” He tucked the gun into the holster, leaned over Mikey and unlocked his handcuffs. Mikey winced, slowly pulling his arms away from the headboard.

“Now get on your knees.”

Mikey just stared. “What?”

“Get on your knees, in front of me.” Pedicone’s free hand went to his belt and worked it loose. Gerard looked confused, resisting the obvious truth of what was happening. Colour was draining from Mikey’s face as Pedicone popped the button of his jeans open.

“What the fuck? I’m not going to – to – _jesus_ ….”

“I said, get on your knees. Are you deaf?”

Mikey was shaking his head, a hand over his mouth. “Pedicone, you’re not serious, I can’t...I don’t…”

“Mikey, _get on your fucking knees,_ before I get annoyed. I’ll slice you up some more until you pass out, and then I’ll fuck your mouth while you’re unconscious, and beat your brother bloody while I wait for you to wake up.”

His words made Mikey swallow back whatever protests he had left.

“Pedicone, _please,_ I’ll do it, don’t make him.” Gerard spoke up, half rising from the bed. “Let me, I...I can make it good.”

“Stay where you are, Gerard. Mikey, let’s go. Don’t make me hurt your brother.”

Mikey slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed, feet trembling as he tried to stand, even as Gerard kept pleading. _Jesus, he’s annoying._ Pedicone shut out the sound of his voice and pushed down on Mikey’s shoulders until he kneeled unsteadily. Helpfully, he put a hand on Mikey’s head until he found his balance, tugging a handful of hair playfully. With the other hand he teased at Mikey’s neck with the knife.

“Oh, my God, Pedicone, _stop,_ this is so fucked up,” Gerard moaned thickly as Pedicone undid his belt and zipper.

Pedicone pulled his cock from the slit in his boxers. Mikey’s face went from pale to white, but he couldn’t pull his head away without backing into the blade of the knife.   

“Are you scared, Mikey?” The power was intoxicating.

The way Mikey’s hands were shaking was enough of an answer. Or maybe he was trembling with rage. It didn’t matter. He was beaten.

Pedicone held the base of his cock in his hand and stepped forward, while at the same time using the knife to push gently on the back of Mikey’s neck, intimidating him into moving closer. Pedicone’s dick rubbed up against Mikey’s cheek, and he recoiled like he’d been burned.

It made Pedicone laugh, and he rubbed himself lightly over Mikey’s chin. “Suck it,” he ordered, brushing a few strands of Mikey’s hair out of his face carefully with his knife.

Mikey hesitated. His eyes moved to the blade hovering near his face.

“If you waste one more fucking second staring at it like an idiot, I’m going to put out your eye. Scratch that, I promised Gerard would pay for your stupidity. I’ll put out his eye.”

Mikey inhaled sharply, almost a sob, but opened his lips reluctantly. Pedicone thrust his hips to close the distance between them, pushing the head of his dick inside that sweet warmth. For a second he even forgot his terrible burning anger, it was so good. Mikey’s mouth was so soft and wet, his reluctance only making it a tighter fit for Pedicone.

God, he was turned on. He would have never guessed Mikey would ever be able to make him feel this way. He let go of his dick and smoothed a hand over Mikey’s hair, petting him softly. Just as he felt Mikey’s lips relax and open up more, Pedicone dug his fingernails into his scalp, moving his head forward painfully.

“You have five minutes to satisfy me. Make this good or I’ll have to fuck you instead.”

He thrust his hips forward and felt a jolt of pleasure as Mikey choked, the sound harsh and thick. A firm hand on the back of Mikey’s head kept him from pulling away. Tears formed at the corners of Mikey’s eyes and he sucked air loudly through his nose.

As much as he liked making Mikey gag on his dick, he wasn’t exactly into being puked on, and Pedicone eased up and let Mikey take the lead.

“I don’t have to push your head down if you do a good job,” he told Mikey. With the knife-free hand, Pedicone reached down to rub two fingers against Mikey’s cheek, felt his lips and how they were stretched tight around his cock. He tried to slip his finger between his cock and the corner of Mikey’s mouth, but it just felt weird, and he settled for holding the base of his dick and pumping lightly.

Across the room, the bed creaked as Gerard shifted, restless and frustrated. Pedicone looked at him until their eyes met and held. If looks could kill, Pedicone would be fucked. Hurting his brother was probably the most vicious thing he could have possibly done to Gerard save for hurting his wife or kid – and Pedicone wasn’t fucked up enough to kill or rape innocent people. He had chosen his revenge well.

Gerard averted his eyes and stared at the wall.

“You two will never forget this,” muttered Pedicone. “The worst thing you ever did was fuck me over.”

Mikey was doing a decent job. _Enthusiastic_ wasn’t a good word, but he was moving his head and keeping the suction steady. Pedicone liked messy blowjobs, and Mikey’s mouth was pretty wet. He patted Mikey’s hair approvingly.

“Flex your tongue,” he ordered. “Yeah, like that. Fuck. Keep that steady, go a little faster, _yeah,_ god, good boy. You must have done this before, yeah? Those rumours about Pete Wentz, those were true, weren’t they?”

Mikey’s eyelids fluttered a bit. Pedicone hoped he was crying.

“Oh, jesus,” he gasped. “God, this is so good, better than I thought. So easy to break you, don’t know why I didn’t do this sooner.”

This time, when he shoved his hips forward, it was unintentional. Mikey choked again and almost pulled off, but Pedicone quickly grabbed his hair and wrenched his head to the side. The new angle gave him a whole new view, and _fuck_ , it was hot. A little bit of drool was running down Mikey’s chin.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Pedicone told him, voice low and hoarse. “Gonna come in your mouth, Mikey, how do you like that?”

Pedicone makes good on his promise just a few seconds later, his orgasm smashing into him and rocking his body so hard that his vision went blurry and his fucking toes curled. “Ungh,” he grunted, then “Oh _yeah,_ ” as he felt Mikey’s throat spasm around him, helping milk him dry. “Perfect.”

Mikey reared back as soon as Pedicone let his hair go and coughed hard. Retching, he spit a gob of spit and come on the floor, some of it dripping down his chin. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand roughly.

“Gross. Should have made you swallow that.”

As he buttoned his pants, Pedicone’s eyes went to Gerard, who was flushed blotchily red with anger.

“That was good, wasn’t it?” Pedicone stretched his arms over his head as if he’d just come back from a good jog. He seemed to have finally struck Mikey speechless. His shoulders sagged, and his eyes had lost any sign of defiance. Pedicone kneeled down to give him a hug, even kissing his cheek mockingly. Mikey didn’t resist.

“Are you done now?” he asked Pedicone flatly, eyes focused on the opposite wall.

“Done? Not even close,” Pedicone replied sweetly, mussing Mikey’s hair playfully. “Your brother gets a turn too. I can come again, just give me a few minutes. I used to think about shoving my dick in his mouth all the time, you know. He never shuts up, does he? Ah-ah,” Pedicone held up a finger like he was talking to a toddler. “Don’t you dare.” Mikey had curled his hands into fists, his blank eyes sparking with anger once again. “Get on the bed and keep quiet, Mikey.”

“Fuck you.”

Pedicone slapped him across the face. Mikey’s head whipped to the side.

“What did you say?”

Mikey’s lip curled. Pedicone smacked him again, across the mouth. His hand came away with a splash of blood across the palm.

“You’re a fucking brat. Maybe when I’m done with Gerard, I’ll spank you. With my belt.”

He grabbed Mikey by the throat and marched him backwards until the back of his legs hit the bed. “Now sit, before I get _really_ pissed off at you.” Briskly, he cuffed Mikey’s hands to the headboard again and turned to Gerard.

“You sick motherfucker,” Gerard hissed as Pedicone approached.

“Talk to me like that again and I’ll fuck you with my knife,” Pedicone said easily as he uncuffed Gerard and dragged him to his feet, getting him against the wall before kicking his legs out from under him. Gerard went down noisily, grunting, landing heavily and awkwardly on one knee. Pedicone laughed and reached out a hand to steady him, but Gerard knocked it away. He was red-faced, mouth set in a defiant line.

“I thought Mikey would be the tough one,” said Pedicone. “Maybe he liked it.” He yanked Gerard’s head back by his hair, forcing him to look up. The tendons in Gerard’s neck stood out as he tensed.

“You’re mad because I made your brother suck my dick?” Pedicone leaned in close. “You should be grateful it was him and not your sexy little wife.”

Before Pedicone knew it Gerard noisily hacked up a wad of phlegm and spat it in his face. Pedicone had a split second to overcome his disbelief – Gerard, the fucking pansy, had the balls to spit in his face while on his knees facing rape or worse? He was actually somewhat impressed. He was more impressed when Gerard made a heroic effort to use the beat of incredulous silence that followed to stand up and fight.

But being impressed didn’t stop him from kicking Gerard in the stomach so hard that it hurt his toes even through his shoes. “You – fucking – _cunt,_ ” Pedicone managed, wiping his hand across the spit and mucus cooling on his cheek and smearing it into Gerard’s hair.

Vaguely he thought it might be a better revenge to go hit Mikey a few times, knowing how much it would anger Gerard, but his rage was so strong that he couldn’t do anything but kick Gerard again. “How _dare_ you? Fucking gross,” he grunted.

“Pedicone,” Gerard rasped, face twisting. He had stopped trying to stand up. Likely he was trying not to collapse on the floor. “I…”

“You’re what?”

Gerard’s mouth opened and closed again. He bit his lip.

“Say it. Apologize. You’re sorry, is that what you meant to say?”

When Gerard only looked at him, Pedicone growled and stuck the barrel of the gun in the soft spot beneath Gerard’s chin. Gerard twisted his neck, pulling against Pedicone’s grip, but Pedicone held him firmly. “You’re going to apologize, and then you’re going to suck my cock and think about how lucky you are that Lindsey isn’t here to do it instead.”

“Don’t you _ever_ threaten my wife – ” Gerard began, faintly but with fire, but the rest of his sentence was cut off as Pedicone took the opportunity to shove the barrel of the gun into his mouth, smashing metal against teeth.

“Fine. You don’t want to suck my dick, faggot?” he hissed at Gerard. “How do you like sucking this instead?”

Gerard gagged and breathed in hard through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut like he was fighting the urge to vomit. He held the gun between his teeth, grimacing, and Pedicone shook his head.

“I said, _suck it,_ ” he growled, and Gerard hesitantly closed his lips around the barrel. “That’s better.”

As he met Gerard’s eyes, Pedicone grinned to himself and cocked the hammer of the gun back, making Gerard whimper and Mikey gasp. Modern guns cocked the hammer automatically when you pulled the trigger, but this was Mikey and Gerard, and what they knew about guns they probably learned watching movies. The echoing clicking sound worked well as a threat, and Gerard’s cheeks hollowed as he sucked obediently.

“That’s good, yeah,” he breathed, his dick stirring in his pants. Leaning in close to Gerard’s ear as he pushed on the back of his head, Pedicone murmured, “I could kill you with just a little squeeze of my fingers – blow your fuckin’ brains all over the wall, and take pictures for your wife – how would you like that, you fucking faggot? Arrogant, selfish son of a bitch, how dare you fire me after all I did for your faggy band?”

With his dick stiffening in his pants and the barrel of his gun shiny with spit, Pedicone tried to hold his composure, but he was slowly losing control of himself. He thrust the gun in and out of Gerard’s mouth, an obscene parody of sex, faster and harder, until blood dripped out from the corners of Gerard’s lips and streaked the gun barrel.

Gerard moaned in pain as Pedicone forced as much of the gun as he could into his mouth, rigid steel biting into the soft flesh at the back of Gerard’s throat. Teeth scraping metal made an awful noise and probably felt like shit.

Pedicone was breathing hard, half enjoying himself, half scared at his mix of elation, lust, and complete lack of control. He wasn’t sure if he could stop. He wasn’t sure if he was going to leave either of them alive anymore. He had completely dismissed the thought of killing them before as he planned this little evening; now it was a tantalizing fantasy.

What did it feel like to kill somebody? What did it matter? His life was over already; had been before he had broken into Mikey’s house. Pedicone knew he had tipped over the edge a bit, and he was pretty sure he would never be quite normal again.

Revenge was nice. Revenge was all he had left. He wondered what Mikey’s face would look like if he shot Gerard and fucked his corpse.

It wasn’t until he heard Mikey crying until Pedicone realized he’d been speaking out loud. Gerard’s chest was heaving, and tears were streaming from his eyes too. He gagged, then coughed, blood splattering Pedicone’s hand. A thicker noise from deep within Gerard’s throat made Pedicone hastily pull the gun out of his mouth, not wanting to be puked on. As soon as Gerard was free he retched twice, hand going to his mouth as he held back the vomit.

“Gerard,” Mikey rasped, voice hoarse and blurred with tears. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t. Don’t worry,” Gerard’s response was muffled. “Mikey, don’t cry. I’m fine.” A thin line of blood made stringy by drool hung from his mouth.

Pedicone liked to see Mikey cry. His throbbing cock seemed to like it too. What he didn’t like was Gerard lying, saying he was _fine._ Overeager, he seized Gerard by the hair and flung him off his knees and onto the ground, face first, Gerard hitting the hardwood floor with his chin and ruined mouth. A quick knee in the center of Gerard’s back held him still as Pedicone yanked roughly at the waistband of his faded jeans.

“Your punishment isn’t over, cunt,” he told Gerard.

Gerard began to buck and struggle beneath him. “No!” he screamed. “Get off me! Don’t!”

Somewhere, Mikey was shouting, but it was hard to focus.

“Could have made it easy on yourself,” growled Pedicone. “You could have just used your mouth on me. Would have saved you a lot of pain.”

Pedicone tore viciously at his faded blue boxers. Gerard’s ass was shapely and smooth. Playfully, Pedicone spanked him, not intending it to hurt, but Gerard yelped out loud anyway.

“Shhh, Gerard. That didn’t hurt. This might, though. You’ll want to relax this time, for your own good.”

Pedicone straddled Gerard’s thighs and cupped each pale ass cheek with his free hand, squeezing gently. Moving his hand to the crack between, he used his thumb and index finger to spread Gerard enough to expose his opening.

“ _Don’t,_ ” Gerard whimpered. Pedicone glanced at him briefly to see that his face had gone red with humiliation. It made him snigger.

“Gerard, you don’t even know what I’m about to do.”

The barrel of the gun was still slick. Pedicone prodded lightly at Gerard’s tailbone before slipping it slowly down his crack. When the cold steel touched his hole, Gerard let out a shudder.

“Don’t worry,” Pedicone said. “It’s still wet from your mouth. I think it’ll work.”

Helpless, Gerard tried to relax. With a slight effort Pedicone pushed on the gun until the tip slid past the tight ring of muscle. He leaned down and spit on the barrel, smearing the makeshift lube and leftover spit around before pushing harder, burying more of the gun inside Gerard’s ass.

“How’s that feel, Gerard? Does that hurt? Do you want me to keep fucking you with this, or do you want my dick instead?”

Vaguely, he was aware of Mikey cursing at him, calling Pedicone every name under the sun. Pedicone didn’t pause to listen, but he did mentally remind himself to punish him for it later.

Gerard didn’t answer the question but let out a yell as Pedicone began to fuck him with the gun, shoving it in to the hilt before yanking back out, only to drive in again harder. Pedicone had to laugh; it was horribly enjoyable to bring Gerard down like this.

He drank in the expression on Gerard’s flushed and sweating face, and when he looked over at Mikey, he had to laugh again at how absurd he looked with his bright enraged eyes and tear tracks making marks through the streaks of blood on his cheeks. It almost looked like smeared makeup, and Pedicone had the passing thought that he ought to have painted Mikey’s lips with lipstick before forcing his cock between them.

“Are you wondering what will happen if I pull the trigger?” Pedicone asked Gerard. “I am too. It’d be slower than shooting you in the head, don’t you think? Slowly bleeding out from the inside, feeling like your guts are on fire. Intestines bulging out your stomach where the bullet came out. You’d have enough time to look at them before you died, I think.”

Somewhere far away, Mikey was talking again, begging, promising, apologizing. He let the words wash over him. It didn’t matter. He twisted the gun roughly, feeling the resistance of the tight passage.

“Nice and tight,” he commented, his free hand squeezing one ass cheek. “You’d feel so good around my dick. I’m not sure if I should rape you or just kill you.”

Pedicone was mostly bluffing, but in his mind he let himself fantasize and imagine the situation. He wondered how it would feel to watch the light in Gerard’s eyes go out for good – or what his face would look like watching Mikey die first.

Gerard’s forehead creased as he whimpered. His knuckles had gone white from squeezing his hands so tightly into fists.

“I want to do it, you know. Fuck, I do, I want to fucking kill you, and then use your blood as lube as I fuck your corpse first, and then your brother, and then I’ll smear the walls with it and write a message to those other assholes in your faggot band.”

“Don’t shoot him, please Pedicone, I’ll do anything,” Mikey still hadn’t shut up. “Kill me, don’t kill him. Please. I’ll let you do whatever you want, _please_. I swear I won’t struggle, I’ll be good.”

Gerard made a protesting noise, eyes flying open, and Pedicone laughed. “Whatever I want,” Pedicone repeated Mikey’s words, but looked at Gerard. “Sounds like a pretty good offer, hmm, Gee?”

“Be quiet, Mikey, god,” Gerard gasped through clenched teeth. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Don’t hurt him, Pedicone.”

“You’re not fine!” Mikey was straining so hard against his handcuffs that his arm began to drip blood again, the tape starting to come undone.

Pedicone laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not done with you, Mikey. Gerard, if you’re lucky and Mikey is a good boy for me, I’ll be done with _you_ in a minute.”

He tightened his hold on the gun, driving sharp edges into the inside of Gerard’s ass, pounding him with it now and twisting it on every upstroke. Gerard’s hips bucked and relaxed rhythmically, constantly trying to stay still while fighting the instinctive urge to get away from the penetration at same time.

It was almost more satisfying than the blowjob he’d gotten from Mikey. Hurting them both was fun, but this was much more intense. Humiliation. The sweetest revenge.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Gerard moaned. He buried his face into his forearms and let out a series of hitching breaths before it became obvious that he had started really crying, totally losing it, and the noises he made rocked through Pedicone’s body like an orgasm.

“ _Please_ , Pedicone. Please, stop.” Gerard sounded nothing like himself. He sounded like an animal. “It fucking hurts, _please,_ I’m fucking _sorry_ , just stop this!”

Pedicone pumped his hand gently a few more times, giving Gerard some more shallow thrusts. The gun came out easier than it had gone in. There was blood on the barrel, which may have accounted for some of the extra slide and Gerard’s sobbing and pleading. He wiped the barrel on the bed and shoved the gun back into the holster.

“I bet that did hurt. Ripped you open, didn’t I? Didn’t like that, did you, bitch?” Pedicone whispered. Gerard shook his head frantically, and yelped when Pedicone seized his hair with one hand and a shoulder with the other and hauled him upright. Gerard’s pants fell and tangled around his ankles, preventing him from getting his footing.

“I didn’t think so. Should have listened to me.”

He threw Gerard backward into the wall and punched him in the stomach. Gerard collapsed, wheezing, trying to hold his stomach while covering his nakedness. Mikey made a noise from the bed, small and scared, and Pedicone heard the headboard rattle again.

“What are you doing? Where are you trying to go?” he snapped at Mikey, who recoiled from his voice. It sent a thrill down Pedicone’s spine to see Mikey so scared of him. His wrists were chafed and bloody from pulling at the cuffs so hard.

“Want me to take those off?” Pedicone asked. “I think you’ve learned what will happen if you try to fight or run, isn’t that right?” He paused, waiting expectantly, until Mikey mumbled, “Yes.”

Pedicone straddled Mikey’s lap and unlocked the handcuffs, and Mikey didn’t even move save for pulling his arms to his sides. He flinched, though, when Pedicone’s clothed dick brushed against him, making Pedicone want to laugh. His erection hadn’t subsided.

He grabbed Mikey’s hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. “Feel that?” he asked. “That’s from watching your brother suck my gun like a good little slut. I bet you already miss this, hmm?”

Mikey looked at the wall blankly, hand limp in Pedicone’s grasp, forced to squeeze the firm cock through Pedicone’s jeans. He didn’t reply or acknowledge the question. Pedicone leaned in and tongued Mikey’s ear lightly. He could feel Mikey shudder.

“Just a minute ago, you were begging for it, Mikey. What was that you said – you’d let me do anything to you if I didn’t kill Gerard? Did you mean that, or were you just pretending to be tough?”

Mikey gritted his teeth. “I. I meant it.” He had to force the words out.

“You’ll let me fuck you?”

Silence boomed. Mikey took several deep breaths, and then, for the first time, his eyes calmed and hardened, and he was able to meet Pedicone’s gaze levelly. “If you…If you don’t touch Gerard again.”

“Yeah?” Pedicone cupped Mikey’s face and traced a finger down his razor-sharp jawline. “Say it. Let me hear you say it.”

“I’ll let you fuck me.”

Gerard bowed his head, grimacing.

Pedicone grinned. “All right,” he said, shuffling off Mikey’s lap and off the bed. “Here’s how it’s gonna go. Mikey. Stand up. Clothes off.”

At first Pedicone thought he might have to get Gerard a little better acquainted with his knife to encourage Mikey. But, after a few beats of silence, he rose and shucked off his shirt, turning his head away from Pedicone and staring resolutely at the floor.

“Good start,” Pedicone noted, nodding to himself. “Pants, now. Underwear too. Come on.”

Mikey began to undo his belt. Pedicone could hear the little _clink_ of the metal buckle as Mikey’s fingers fumbled at it with clumsy shaking hands. Pedicone’s eyes roamed critically over Mikey’s ass and legs as the pants and briefs were dropped to the floor. He was a little too skinny and too pale, but both helped him to look more vulnerable and appealing to Pedicone.

“Not bad,” he said, gruff but approving.

Mikey suffered Pedicone’s ogling in silence, still trying to hold onto that steely calm he was faking. It was funny that Mikey thought he could bargain with Pedicone so easily – as if he had any control over the situation. If he let Gerard be – mostly, anyway – it wouldn’t be because Mikey offered his consent to get fucked.

It was sort of cute to let Mikey think he was saving his brother, though.

Gerard was still sitting against the wall, head bent, avoiding Pedicone’s eyes and Mikey’s naked body. Pedicone didn’t like that.

“Gerard,” he barked, “get the fuck up. Your turn. Strip.”

When Gerard was too slow to get to his feet, Pedicone helpfully grabbed a handful of dark mussed hair and pulled with all his strength, practically lifting Gerard up by his scalp. His other hand pulled up the back of Gerard’s shirt until Gerard had gotten his footing and could get it off the rest of the way himself. His pants had been loosely pulled up over his ass but were still undone, and they fell to his ankles easily.

Gerard’s body was a little more rounded, softer but not pudgy, skin rather prettily unblemished except for the sparse dark hair at the base of his spine and the thicker trail down his navel. Pedicone put his hands on Gerard’s bare back and ran his fingers down the spine, watching goose bumps rise at the touch.

“I think I can trust you two enough not to have to cuff you again,” Pedicone mused as Gerard unsteadily stepped out of his pant legs. “You’re learning your lessons well. Being so obedient for me.”

He sauntered over to Mikey and reached out to palm his bare ass, grabbing a handful and squeezing. Mikey’s back stiffened, exhaling sharply. Pedicone grinned and looked over at Gerard just in time to catch the way his eyes were flickering between Mikey to the dresser where Pedicone had set down the knife.

“Or maybe not. Getting some brilliant idea there, Gerard?” Pedicone asked sharply. Gerard didn’t reply, and Pedicone chucked darkly.

“This isn’t a movie,” he said, climbing on the bed beside Mikey, who drew his knees up sharply to cover himself. “You wanna go for my knife? Go for it. I fucking dare you. Gonna try and stab me? One, you don’t have the guts to kill me. Two – ” Pedicone patted the pocket of his hoodie where the gun. “How much do you wanna bet that I can shoot Mikey a hell of a lot faster than you can get that knife anywhere near me?”

Gerard didn’t respond, and Pedicone hummed in approval. “That’s right, cunt. No stupid ideas. No sudden movements. Sit on the bed.”

Pedicone’s erection hadn’t subsided. He was becoming aware of his tight and restrictive his own jeans were, and slid off the bed to take them and his underwear off.

“Gerard,” he snapped. “On the bed. Don’t look like that, I’m not fucking you too. You’re going to watch.”

Naked from the waist down, Pedicone slowly toed off his socks and watched as Mikey awkwardly settled himself against the headboard next to Gerard. He was shuddering, and Mikey reached out with his uninjured arm to grab his brother’s hand.

“It’s okay,” Pedicone heard Gerard whisper, squeezing Mikey’s hand. Pedicone could see their knuckles whiten, they were gripping each other so tight. “I’m okay. Just shaken up.”

“Gerard,” Mikey murmured, voice catching. “Shit, Gerard, just don’t do anything stupid, okay? Don’t make him hurt you again. I can take this, but I can’t…if he does this to you instead, I couldn’t...”

“Love you,” Gerard choked out, sounding like he was swallowing back tears. “God, you’re so brave.”

“Love you too, Gee. It’s gonna be okay,” whispered Mikey, and they locked eyes with each other as Pedicone stared at them.

It shouldn’t have intrigued Pedicone as much as it did, the sight of the brothers naked and touching each other so gently. His cock gave an interested twitch.

Gerard smoothed a hand through Mikey’s hair, and Mikey dropped his head down to lean into the touch.

“So sweet,” Pedicone said, jolting himself out of his own fantasies. He was surprised to find himself curling a hand around his cock, squeezing himself. “I nearly cried. But he might need all that cuddling after I fuck him ‘til he’s screaming, so you can stop for now.”

“Shut _up_!” Gerard exploded, earning himself a backhanded slap across the face. The sound cracked through the air like a gunshot.

Quick as lightning Pedicone seized Gerard’s hand by the pinky finger and bent it backwards towards his hand until they all heard it snap audibly. Gerard yelled again, this time a horrible piercing sound of agony made all the louder by Mikey yelling too as if it were his own finger.

Mikey looked as if he was about to do something stupid, like leap at Pedicone, but he was far too slow. Gerard’s ring finger was clutched in his hand before Mikey could move, and Pedicone gave him a little grin. “Stay still, Mikey. Both of you stay nice and still and I won’t break this finger too.”

Of course, he obeyed. Gerard squeezed his eyes shut, panting, hand shaking madly. His breath was shaky too, like he wanted to sob but was holding it back with all his strength. After they were both relatively still and quiet for a moment, Pedicone let Gerard’s hand drop. Gerard yelped as his crooked pinky finger hit the bed, but sagged in relief when Pedicone backed off.

Mikey shot Pedicone a hateful look and reached for Gerard’s shoulder. “Fuck. Fuck, Gerard. I can’t – I can’t fucking take this, okay, I can’t take watching him hurt you. I told you, I can handle anything, except that.”

Gerard looked at Mikey in anguish. “What about _you?_ I couldn’t just listen to him talk like that. I’m fucking letting him _rape_ you, fuck, I’m letting you do this, for _me_ ,” he said frantically. “Mikey, I _can’t_.”

“It’s okay,” Mikey said, gripping his brother’s shoulder tightly. “I’ll be fine.”

“This is all very touching,” broke in Pedicone, loudly. “Provided you don’t piss me off enough to kill one of you, you’ll have plenty of time for chit-chatting later. In the meantime, you two are gonna calm the fuck down, and kiss each other.”

Gerard flinched visibly, but neither of them voiced a complaint. Pedicone couldn’t tell if it was because they were scared or because they had kissed before. With all the gross shit they did to each other onstage, he guessed this was nothing new. _They embarrassed me with all that campy stage incest bullshit._

“Mikey,” whispered Gerard. Mikey looked up at him, gnawing on his lip briefly, and then they both leaned in at the same time and Pedicone’s eyes widened in delight as their lips met.

“You know,” began Pedicone, “maybe the two of you should have just tried a career in porn. Fat as you were before, Gee, and as awkward and scrawny as you have always been, Mikey, you might still have made it just by being related. I’m surprised you went for music, really. All you two seemed to want to do onstage is touch each other. I didn’t say stop,” he snapped, and watched Mikey take a deep breath as if to stop himself from getting riled up at Pedicone’s words before he kissed Gerard again, more firmly, a hand clutching Gerard’s upper arm like he had to hold on.

“Considering the feeble amount of musical talent the two of you have, I would’ve gone with porn, if I were you. Well, if I were you _and_ I was sick and twisted enough to think licking my brother’s chest and smacking his ass was a good idea.” Pedicone had seen some of their antics from the Black Parade era on the Internet.

He fell silent for a moment, the only sound in the room being soft noises as the brothers broke apart for breath and kissed again. He didn’t even have to egg them on. Mikey cradled Gerard’s injured hand gently, supporting it by the wrist and being careful not to touch the rapidly swelling broken finger. His thumb rubbed small circles on Gerard’s palm.

“You’re _enjoying_ this,” Pedicone said. It wasn’t a question. “Stop.” Gerard’s eyes fluttered as Mikey released his arm and backed away. “What if I made Gerard fuck you instead, hmm?”

That threw him. Mikey’s eyebrows shot up and he blinked rapidly, looking even more stupid than he normally did.

“What?” Pedicone faked innocence. “You like it when he kisses you. I’ve seen everything he’s done to you onstage. How much more has he done in private, if you’re willing to slut around with each other for the entire world to see?”

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Gerard almost protested, but wisely swallowed his words. _At least one of them is smart._ Mikey’s face was still blank. It made Pedicone want to shake him. He hated Mikey’s bland, expressionless face – it made him look so dull and vacant. Like he was in need of a good fuck. Maybe it would pound some life back into him.

“If you can’t answer, that’s okay.” He pulled Mikey by the shoulders, away from Gerard and closer to the edge of the bed, and then sat down to put an arm around Mikey. “We can both fuck you. We could take turns. Maybe I could blindfold you and you can amuse yourself by guessing whose cock is in your ass. You can tell us who’s better.”

Mikey’s composure was starting to crack. Pedicone could see it, and it was beautiful.

“Or maybe we could both get in your ass at the same time. It might take a while, but I’ve got some good lube. Maybe,” Pedicone’s hands slowly cupped Mikey’s face, pinched his cheeks, and then slid down to squeeze around his neck. “you could show Gerard how good you are with your mouth, while I fuck you on your hands and knees.”

“You’re fucking sick,” Mikey choked out, and then, “Please…”

His face was turning red. Pedicone hadn’t realized how tightly he was squeezing Mikey’s throat. He loosened his grip a bit. “Please, what? Are you begging for two cocks in you?”

“No,” Mikey whispered. “No. Please don’t, Pedicone. I thought we had a deal.”

“You said you’d let me do anything to you, if I didn’t kill Gerard. Isn’t that right? Or were you lying? Just what does his life mean to you?”

“I just…I wanted you to leave Gerard alone…I swear, I’ll make it good for you. Don’t touch him, please. Don’t involve him in this.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Pedicone simpered mockingly, petting Mikey’s hair, “You _will_ make it good for me. Gerard can lie down, and you can kneel on the bed in front of him with your ass up for me. If you piss me off or fight me, I’m going to make you suck his dick. And if you won’t do that, then I’ll hold you down and make him fuck you, or else I’ll break the rest of his fingers and his hand to boot, and fuck you both myself.”

Mikey angrily scrubbed his eyes, like he was starting to cry but refused to admit it.

He glanced at Gerard, whose face was twisted and pale. Pedicone didn’t know if that was from his injuries or how he was talking to Mikey. “Or if you’d like, I can take your deal seriously and kill Gerard, since you seem to be having doubts about offering yourself up to spare your brother. Then I’ll rape you anyway. And I’ll make it hurt ten times worse.”

Mikey looked at Gerard, agonized.

“Mikey _,_ ” Gerard managed from between clenched teeth, eyes bright with tears. “It’s okay, Mikes. It’s gonna be okay. I love you.”

Sucking in a breath, Mikey nodded.

“Mmkay,” Pedicone murmured, “if you’re ready to cooperate – ” He grabbed Mikey by the shoulders and turned him onto his stomach roughly, and then grabbed his legs and pulled him to the foot of the bed, facing Gerard, who stared determinedly at his lap.

“Get your knees on the edge of the bed. Arch your back.” Pedicone’s cock was _aching_. They’d been screwing around for too long.

Mikey was shaking a bit as he kneeled as directed. Pedicone put a hand in the center of his back and pushed down, coaxing, swallowing hard as Mikey arched his back and pushed his ass up.

“Fuck yeah,” murmured Pedicone, licking his index finger before bringing it to Mikey’s hole. His ass looked much better on display like this – less scrawny and almost _pert_. He couldn’t keep his hands off, rubbing the rough puckered skin around Mikey’s entrance and grabbing his cheeks to spread him wider.

Mikey pushed his face into the bed, back heaving with each breath, flinching every time Pedicone touched him intimately.

“You’re adorable, aren’t you?” mocked Pedicone, although his tone was warmed with a touch of sincerity. A large part of him still wanted to make the two of them scream in pain and beg him to stop, but another part of him wished he could also make Mikey moan, to make him _want_ Pedicone, to gaze at him as adoringly as MCR’s fans did when they met the brothers.

“ _Fuck_ , Mikey. I’m going to fucking destroy your ass.”

He took himself in hand and stroked lightly, feeling overwhelmed at the rush of sensation – too much, not enough, not nearly enough. His skin prickled in anticipation as he rubbed the head of his cock along the cleft of Mikey’s ass and felt him tense and tighten.

“Gonna stay all tensed up for me?” Pedicone teased, pressing himself further between the taut cheeks. “Nice and tight, make it hurt a little more but it’ll be over a lot faster.” He laughed, and Mikey seemed to make an effort to relax.

He took his little packet of lube and smoothed it over his fingers, and then onto his dick. When his wet cock pressed up against Mikey’s hole, Mikey made a shuddery little high-pitched sound as he inhaled deeply.

Pedicone leaned forward and the tip of his cock easily slid inside. Almost immediately, Mikey, the dumbass, tensed right back up and cried out in pain, grabbing two handfuls of the blanket. It made Pedicone laugh.

Mikey is so fucking tight around his dick. At first Pedicone thrust shallowly, rocking his hips in and out in a nice rhythmic pattern. It’s tough – Mikey’s so rigid that it felt like Pedicone was going to split him in two if he thrust in any deeper.

“You’re making this a lot harder than it has to be,” he told Mikey eventually. “Fuck, relax. I’m going to end up ripping you open. You can ask your brother what that feels like. Remember how he begged me to stop?”

Mikey tried to obey. His cheeks are bright red, humiliated. The muscles in his back and shoulders kept tensing and flexing, but suddenly Pedicone’s thrusts become easier, and his cock slides in deeper.

Smacking Mikey’s ass rewarded him with a wriggle and a pained little moan. “Yeah, that’s good, isn’t it Mikey? I like it when you move like that.”  

Silence from Mikey, who looks like he’s biting down hard on whatever he wanted to say.

“Smart boy, too,” Pedicone noted, rewarding Mikey’s quiet submission by slowing down the pace – a little. “You’re really holding up your end of the deal.”

“Fuck, fuck, _ow,_ Christ,” Mikey whimpered when Pedicone grabbed his hips for leverage, knocking Mikey off balance and bouncing his injured arm off the bed.

“ _Fuck,_ ” echoed Gerard, who was digging his fingernails into his own arms so hard that they were bleeding. His eyes were fucking wild, animalistic, jerking around the room. Pedicone knew he didn’t want to close his eyes – didn’t want to hide and let Mikey suffer on his own. Gerard is _predictable._

Pedicone shoved his hips forward hard, burying himself in Mikey to the hilt. Mikey let out a rough cry as Pedicone began thrusting harder, faster, getting a good rhythm going. He fucked Mikey until he could barely think about his own pain and suffering. It was easy to lose himself, watching his slippery cock disappear inside Mikey’s hole over and over. He gripped Mikey’s ass tightly, groaning, high on the feelings of freedom and pleasure.

“Slow down,” Mikey finally broke. “Please...”

Mikey tried crawling further up the bed, away from Pedicone, but was roughly yanked back.

“Fuck, Mikey,” Pedicone gasped, coming back down a bit, “you really think you’re going anywhere? You promised not to struggle, and let me fuck you. Well, how do you fucking like it?”

Mikey bowed his head but stopped trying to get away.

“Tell me you like it,” Pedicone demanded, pulling Mikey backward onto his dick again.

“ _Fuck,_ okay, I like it. I like it.”

“You love my dick, yeah? Fucking cockslut, yeah, just like your brother, I should keep you both. Wish I could, yeah, just tie you up in my basement, fuck you every night, or make you fuck each other. Goddamn.”

Pedicone felt dizzy. How did he ever feel so cornered when there were so many _possibilities_? He had so much power. Power to hurt, to kill, to control...

“No,” Mikey gasped. Pedicone hated that word, and he slapped Mikey’s ass as hard as he could. Then Mikey just screamed. Or maybe that was from Pedicone grabbing him by the back of the neck and making his final, brutal thrusts.

They both cried out when Pedicone pulled out roughly – Pedicone in frustration at the loss of that tight hole, and Mikey in pain or protest at what he was about to do.

“Fuu-uuhck,” Pedicone grunted, screwing up his face as he strokes his dick hard and fast, chasing the orgasm that was _just_ almost there – _almost, almost, fuck_ , yes.

There are fucking _fireworks_ going off in Pedicone’s head when he comes all over Mikey’s ass and the small of his back. Never, never in his life had Pedicone felt anything like this. Satisfaction, sexual release, mental peace. The ultimate high, more relaxing than weed, more of a rush than coke. God, he had done it. He’d really done it. He’d really taught them a lesson.

Mikey’s knees actually buckled when Pedicone let go of his hips, and he fell face first onto the bed like his legs were made of rubber. He barely managed to get himself up onto one elbow.

Gerard sucked in a breath. “Oh, fuck, fuck. Mikey. Mikey, are you okay? Come here. It’s okay. It’s over.”

Pedicone gave a snort of laughter – Mikey’s as big of a drama queen as his brother.

Gerard smoothed Mikey’s hair and cupped his face with his good hand. They were both breathing hard, sides heaving, eyes big. Like scared little rabbits, cornered by a fox. It was just what Pedicone wanted.

Pedicone’s come was splattered over Mikey’s lower back, glistening and sliding down onto the blanket. He admired the sight as he found his jeans, picked them up, and searched through the pockets.

“Want a cigarette?” Pedicone asked Mikey as he lit one of his own. Gerard gave him a death glare. “What? I’m being nice. Nothing like a smoke after a good _fuck._ ”

“Bastard,” Gerard ejaculates with a quick breath. “Sick fucking bastard.” He scooted down the bed and reached for Mikey, helping his brother crawl forward up the bed to recline on the pillow. “Watch your arm,” Gerard told him gently, arranging Mikey into a comfortable position and pulling the blanket over his naked, shivering body.

“Sharing is caring,” Pedicone laughed like an idiot, so high on post-sex and nicotine relaxation, and threw the cigarette at Mikey. It bounced off his chest. Gerard scowled heavily when Mikey recoiled.

Carefully, Gerard slid closer and put his arms around Mikey’s shoulders, awkwardly holding him. Mikey flinched again, and Gerard looked like he’d been slapped. But he didn’t let go.

“I love you,” Gerard told Mikey for the millionth time. “I love you. I’m here for you. It’s gonna be okay.”

Mikey’s face wasn’t just blanched but grey, like Pedicone sucked all the life right out of him. Gerard looked better, but was trembling so hard that he was making Mikey vibrate too as they clung to each other, carefully avoiding all the cuts and bruises. Gerard is being careful not to move his swollen hand at all.

“Don’t let go, fuck,” Mikey said, barely audible. “Just let me…”

And then Mikey’s pushing his face into his brother’s shoulder and letting himself cry – _really_ cry, gasping sobs that shook his whole body and even the bed. Gerard held him tighter, closing his eyes and kissing the top of Mikey’s head.

Pedicone didn’t mind the noise. Humming to himself to drown out the annoying sounds Mikey was making, he stretched his tired limbs and dressed himself. Nothing was too wrinkled or ruined, and he was glad.

He felt so damn _calm_. It was like he was a new person.

There was an en-suite master bathroom, quite nice. Pedicone washed his hands and splashed cold water on his face. Looked carefully at his slightly-rumpled clothes, checking for any suspicious blood splatters that might attract attention when he returns to his car, parked a few blocks away at a little public community center with a library and pool. From Mikey’s room, he could still hear Gerard’s low, soothing voice, comforting his little brother.

He pissed and flushed the toilet, and washed his hands again. Back in the room, nothing’s changed. The brothers look helpless, beaten and bloody and cringing.

“Do I look good?” he asked them playfully. “I’ve gotta get going.”

Mikey’s bloodshot hazel eyes look suspicious and wary. “You’re leaving?”

“I know, you’ll miss me. It’s been fun, boys. A lot of fun.”

“We have to go to the hospital,” Gerard declared suddenly. “We need to call somebody, or drive – ”

“No. Stay here. Don’t call anybody.” Their phones are broken, Pedicone remembered, but maybe Mikey had a house line he didn’t know about. Or maybe Gerard’s phone survived the throw.

“You’re big boys,” he told them. “Figure it out.”

Gerard’s mouth tightens worriedly. “Mikey’s arm…”

“…is bleeding a bit, yes. Put pressure on it. Clean it in the bathroom. Like I said, figure it out. He’s not going to fucking die. It’s a cut.”

Gerard nods and looks away.

“Don’t leave this room,” Pedicone continued. “Go to the hospital later if it won’t stop bleeding, make up some bullshit story. You’re good at that, remember?”

He smirks, and neither of them can make eye contact now. Broken. He broke them. He _loved_ that.

“I’m not hanging around,” Pedicone told them, truthfully. “I’m getting the fuck out of this city. This state. What the fuck ever. You don’t need the police. They’re not gonna do a damn thing for you.

“And,” he went on, more loudly, “if I do hear anything about the cops being after me, that’s when you know I’ll be back. This time I won’t be smacking you around a bit. I’ll be coming to kill you. Maybe one of you, so the other can suffer more.

He looked hard at Mikey. “It’d be you, probably,” he said. “I’m a nice guy, and Gerard has a kid…and that lovely wife,” he added, leering at Gerard. “Better to kill the one nobody will miss, right? Besides, Mikey and I could have a little more fun first. He was pretty good. Although I guess that lovely wife of yours would be wild in bed, Gerard. She looks like the kinky type. Or maybe Mikey’s little girlfriend would want some action. What’s her name, Kirsten? Kristin? Tiny little thing. I could hold her down with one hand. I guess it’d be hard to choose.”

Mikey closed his eyes and Gerard grasped his shoulder.

“Remember,” Pedicone told them. “Remember what happens when you fuck with people who aren’t going to put up with your bullshit. You’re both gonna be thinking of this for a long time. You’ll never forget me, or how it felt to beg for mercy. And I gave it to you. This could have been so much worse...and it will be, if you don’t keep your mouths shut.”

With that, Pedicone turned, and left the brothers holding each other on the bloodstained bed.

 


End file.
